


Red Eyed Riding Hood

by Daff_O_Dil (Daze_E_Chain)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Dorks in Love, Fluff, Red Riding Hood Elements, Silly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24010570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daze_E_Chain/pseuds/Daff_O_Dil
Summary: This wasn't the sort of adventure the Crystal Exarch had in mind, when he spoke to the Warrior of Light at the clifftops of Kholusia.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	1. What are dreams made of?

Nowadays, Feo Ul found themselves increasingly busy with less time to spend pulling tricks and pranks. There was always a loyal subject, needing their fair king to settle disputes. Weather it was a disgruntled Nu mou, upset at an unfair trade or an obnoxious pixie making a little too much mischief for mortals. Feo Ul had to deal with it all in the moment it happened. Alas that was the way their kind lived. 

Luckily the king of the fae had finally found time to address one of their more personal pressing matters. Fixing up the ragged state of her two very precious and marvellously dense saplings. Feo Ul loved their dear saplings with everything they had, but the both of them would not stop hopelessly dancing around one another. Feo Ul was tiring of seeing their dearest saplings stumble about like new-born Amaro. They both needed a gentle nudge towards eloping with one another.

Though in retrospect it might end up needing to be more of a shove. The Warrior of Darkness was almost magically obvious to the Crystal Exarch's clear as day pining. The Crystal Exarch also seemed convinced that he didn't deserve the Warrior's affections. Alas, nothing would progress between the two precious saplings, unless Feo Ul expertly intervened with a little fae magic. The king had spent many hours conjuring and weaving together many dreams to put their dear little saplings into. But eventually Feo Ul settled on an old woven tale that reminded them of their dear sweet little Exarch.

The king rises from their grand throne and they swish their finger in the air to begin the dream weaving.

\------

Elsewhere in the first the Crystal Exarch had finished a long day of Crystarium upkeep and exchanging many social pleasantries with a highly rambunctious Dwarven representative. Whom in particular were known to be a handful at their best and a raging disaster to host at their worst. Plenty of alcohol being provided had helped the trade talks regarding the fine ore and stone go less rocky than the Exarch had feared.

However, at the end of the day the highly tired Crystal Exarch practically collapses in his comfortable high backed chair. Rubbing fruitlessly at his temples as if that would fend off the oncoming headache creeping up on him. Of course whenever the Exarch stops for even a moment his overactive mind would wander toward a certain inspiring Warrior of Darkness.

What was his everlasting inspiration currently up too? How was their health fairing? Were they able to gain a moment of respite between their vast amount of duties? Maybe he could check on them via his mirror in hopes of relieving some of his many worries and questions. The Exarch unconsciously reaches out for his staff which is resting on the side of the chair. But he catches himself and hastily retreats his hand as he realises the selfish desire he was about to act on.

What right did he have to intrude on his inspirations privacy? The allgan made mirror should only be used for dire situations or in case of emergencies. Not for an old man's idle musings. The Exarch scolds himself harshly for letting his fickle emotions get the better of him. He should trust the Warrior's judgment and skill at keeping themselves safe, whole and hale.

Then another wave of exhaustion washes over the wary Crystal Exarch. He groans from the spiking pain threatening to tear his head in two. Maybe he should rest his eyes for a moment. Just to make sure this forming headache didn't hamper his research towards getting the Scion's back to the source.

Soon he finds himself drowsily slowly drifting off as his tired body slouches awkwardly in the chair. An odd whisper of someone’s giggling can be heard before the Exarch finally succumbs to a restless sleep.

\------

G'raha Tia unhappily mumbles and groans as something persistently pecks at his face. He raises his right arm to try and bat away the infuriating little pecking pest. Alas his efforts are in vain as the thing continues to assault his face with light pecks. He grouchily opens his groggy eyes to be met with a blurry outline of a small bright blue bird. The bird happily tweets a tune in close proximity to G'raha's face. G'raha's drowzy mind finally catches up to him and he realises a bird is sitting on his face. His eyes shoot wide open and he jolts upright into a sitting position. Startling the blue bird from its comfortable miqo'te perch. 

Perhaps he had left a window open before he dozed off? No wait! The crystal tower didn't have any windows. G'raha swivels his head around in complete confusion, only to be met with an open looking field and blooming flowers scattered around.

The pressing matter of being in a strange place shakes G'raha into a rapidly alert state. Had the wretched Ascian named Elidibus, captured him to make use of his vast knowledge? Then a panicked thought runs through G'raha's head like a raging wildfire. Was his dearest Warrior in danger? If they were, G'raha was stuck in this unusual place, with an annoying bird still flying around his head chirping.

Looking around at the endless lush green scenery was doing little to answer G'raha's ever growing list of questions. He tells himself to take a few deep breaths and to try and remember where he was last. His memory feels significantly blurred but G'raha could remember closing his eyes whilst he sat in his high backed chair. A thought strikes him like a clear sounding bell. He was asleep, this was all a fever dream. If he imagines an orange tree one would appear. After a few seconds of concentration, no orange tree appears before him. 

G'raha looks at his hands in hopes of finding any answer only to be stunned at what he sees. Both of his arms were made of flesh, there was no spiralling crystal winding up his body. More swarms of endless questions fill his mind. All buzzing like angry bee's in a symphony of discontent.

Next to be brought to G'raha's attention is the state of his robes, or lack of robes to be precise. Instead they had been replaced by a bright white and red puffy set of clothes. His slightly loose shirt and knee length shorts are made of soft white cotton. In place of his usual hood is a grandiose velvety red cape. However, expertly placed holes in the hood let his ears be free from the capes confines. Short white bobby socks adorn his feet allowing his shiny red buckled shoes to look even brighter at the contrast.

To say G'raha is less than thrilled at his current outfit would be an understatement. He begrudgingly knows there is little point in dwelling on his new odd looking getup. 

Now if this really was a dream the old classic pinch test method could not be beat. G'raha wastes no time to administer a relatively strong pinch to his upper left arm. Only to squeak in pain right after, his tail fluffs right up and his ears go flat against his head. Both from the unexpected pain and the reality of the situation crashing down upon him.

He lets the lush green grass take his body weight as he slumps over in defeat. The blasted bird which hadn't stop orbiting G'raha's hood covered head finally settles on G'raha's arm and continues to sing its repetitive tune. 

Between the swirling self-doubt and an awful feeling of creeping dread, G'raha finally takes notice of the bluebird’s tune. He swears that he has heard it somewhere before. But where? It almost sounded like a fae song a certain well known fae liked to sing.

G'raha rockets up into a sitting position again jolting his body in the process. He hisses through his clenched teeth at his joints screaming in sudden pain and quickly collects himself to address the flustered little bird. "Feo Ul, my friend. I have had enough of your pranks. Please release me from this dream with post-haste."

The little blue bird just blinks owlishly at G'raha and happily chirps in response.

G'raha tries again in a more desperate tone. "Please, Feo Ul. You can't expect me to untangle your vague riddles with so little time remaining for our new found friend's safe travels home."

Silence is his only response and G'raha pouts maturely for a few more moments, before letting out a deep sigh of defeat. "Fine I shall entertain your game for the time being. You leave me with little choice after all."

The little bluebird just happily chirps and flies away leaving a slightly sulking G'raha Tia to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of a story I've been wanting to write for little over a month. I believe it will have less than 10 chapters when it is complete. 
> 
> That said, to the wonderful readers of "How to Train your G'raha Tia" I have been working on two additional chapter drafts so no worries there will be future updates to that story.
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you join me for the hi-jinks filled journey this story takes us all on. :)


	2. Confrontations?

Currently our dear infamous and impressive world bending G'raha Tia was begrudgingly following a happily chirping small blue fluff ball with wings. The little blob of a creature looked more akin to a blue bird, than any other feathered species. Though knowing the ever mischievous fae imagination, the bird could be part tiger for all G'raha knew. Alas the little exited sounding bird was currently acting more like a navigating compass then a secret fierce beast waiting to bite G’raha’s well-groomed ears off. 

Instead it was leading a somewhat hesitant G'raha Tia into the deep unknown, that was unfortunately just bland looking fields of crops. Most fields seemed to be growing normal crops from wheat to bean stalks. Although, G'raha swears he had seemed some plant that looked suspiciously like they were growing fish. If G'raha was being honest with himself, he was suspecting this to be a funky fever dream. Otherwise at the mind-bending sight of fish plants, he would have questioned his own sanity long ago. However, his aged wisdom and many years of experience with devious pixies, told him to always expect the unexpected. Most lesser man would have lost their last marbles at the pixies tricks and cleverly crafted mirages. Though, maybe G’raha had lost his last set of marbles a long time ago.

Soon the grand expanses of fields seem to roll to a stop. The little blue bird tweets the familiar sounding chirpy tune once again. G'raha then finds himself at the cobblestone doorstep of a quaint and homely looking little cottage. His red eyes narrow with suspicion, at the now comfortably perched tweeting bird. However, after a few moments of not getting anywhere, or making any favourable progress, G'raha concedes and he reluctantly knocks on the heavy mahogany door.

Too G'raha's mild surprise the heavy door creaks loudly, as it is opened by the cottages current occupant. The creaking sounds unpliant to G’raha’s sensitive ears. On the other hand, his tail swishes in anticipated agitation as the door opens to reveal the mysterious homeowner.

Surprisingly a very familiar face answers the door and G'raha can't contain his surprised expression. There stands the ever handsome, Thancred in all his rugged looking glory. Though his dashing good looks are soiled by his hideously bright pink pair of slacks and frilly cotton shirt. The scruffy looking man’s expression lights up in recognition, when he sees a very confused looking, G'raha Tia standing dumbfounded at his doorstep. Thancred just crosses his arms in a casually impatient manner and speaks. "Aha, I have been waiting for you, Red."

G'raha raises one thin eyebrow in question as he very eloquently inquires. "You have?"

Thancred's expression changes from relaxed to clearly annoyed in an instant, as he elaborates on his previously spoken words. Scolding G'raha with a fatherly voice. "You should have been here over an hour ago."

G'raha is still slightly bewildered and confused by the situation but he apologises on reflex. "My Apologies, I got caught up with something…"

Thancred just lets out a deep sigh and nonchalantly shrugs off the apology. "No worries, it's not like our dear old Grandma keeps track of time." Thancred then chooses to lean his frame against the door and cross his arms yet again. "I had to send Urianger along with the girls to the romance festival. Since someone had to stay here to give you the basket of food, Urianger and Ryne lovingly prepared." Thancred continues his rambling. "Gaia helped out too, by eating the first batch of cookies." His tone sounds almost salty as he continues his tale. "Oh, Gaia can surrender to her sweet tooth as much as she wants, but when poor old me wanted a single cookie from the second batch. I get my hand batted away and glared at by the both of our resident chefs. It's so unfair."

G'raha just nods attentively absorbing the information readily being provided, his ever overactive brain trying to pick all the various information apart. He then poses another not so carefully crafted question to Thancred. "So, I need to deliver this basket to Grandma?"

Thancred stops his complaints about his long suffering unfair life and he looks G'raha in mild concern. "Did you bash your head on the way here, or something?"

G'raha realizes his blundering mistake a little too late and he rapidly flusters, scrambling to fix his error. "Well, I... may have been out in the sun a little too long. Haha... Silly me."

Thancred slouched frame moves back in to a standing position as he gestures to G'raha to come inside. "Maybe, you should rest a little bit before you make this delivery to Grandma."

G'raha just audibly groans and shakes his head in some futile hope, to prevent further delays in the completion of this oddly themed dream. "Thanks for your concern, my friend. But I must be on my way for our dear Grandma's sake. I'm sure the fresh air will do me a lot of good."

Thancred just sighs and shrugs nonchalantly in response, readily surrendering to G'raha's everlasting stubbornness. "Well, being concerned is an Uncles job, you know." He pauses for a second then continues. "Though you should defiantly get some fresh air more often, your always buried in your many dusty old tomes."

G'raha, then takes a sharp intake of breath at mental bombshell of dear old Thancred being his caring uncle. His throat stings at the sudden gulp of air. The pain helps him shake himself out of his stunned state and he proceeds to unconvincingly and falsely laugh his way out of the conversation. "Haha, well it's been great catching up and talking with you, but I better be on my way."

Thancred just nods in response, after he hands the woven basket of baked goods to G'raha. Giving the red clothed cat man a hearty pat on the back he sends G'raha away with a thin smile. "Give the old crone, my best."

G'raha hastily bids his exit, aware he has wasted far too much time talking with the white haired hyur. He does however mutter a reassuring. "Sure, I'll pass your well wishes along."

The hurried miqo'te doesn't get very far before Thancred's deep voice rings out loud and clear. Startling G'raha in the process and making his naturally fluffy tail fluff up a bit more. 

"Remember to stay on the path and avoid wolves. Stay safe, little Red!"

G'raha’s retreating back tenses up as he entertains the very unpleasant thought of having to potentially battle dangerous wolves, unarmed.

\-------

Unfortunately, as time crawled on G'raha found his ever thinning patience was being tested to it's inevitable limit. Granted his currently worn, overly frilly and frumpy red outfit was snagging on odd branches ever so often. This added to the immensely frustrating situation, as the poor hooded miqo’te found himself lost and almost aimlessly wandering through the never ending forest.

Lush evergreen trees twist and turn in a myriad of directions, making it frighteningly easy to get lost in the all-encompassing sea of leaves. The only thing keeping G'raha moving forward in some sort of direction was a cracked rugged old stone path. That was apparently what G’raha needed to follow if he ever wanted to make it out to the other side of the densely tree covered forest. G'raha had resourcefully found this ever vital information at a surprisingly crude looking sign at the entrance of the forest. The barley illegible scribbles had seemed eerily similar to a pixies penmanship. A certain renowned red haired pixie that G'raha was more than eager to freeze with a well-placed blizzard spell.

Alas, G'raha's vengeance would have to wait as he reluctantly continues to endlessly stumble through the forest of vivid green. Just as he entertains the idea of taking a brief brake to gather his very lost bearings, his previous brisk walking pace crawls to a stop. He ungracefully plops himself on the ground with a deep sigh. This seems to cause the little bluebird companion to suddenly stop its musical trills and tweets. Instead the little feather-ball starts distressingly chirping in some kind of frantic frenzy. G'raha hastily stands back up and rapidly glances around, trying to find the cause of the little blue bird’s distress. The miqo'te swears he sees a shadowy looking figure, that seems to be lurking in the distance. G'raha squints further trying to figure out who it could be hiding behind the foliage, as he braces himself into a tense stance, ready to bolt at any moment.

The menacing figure slowly saunters towards to red cloaked miqo'te with a very odd swagger to their hips. The fact that this was almost certainly the wolf, plays in like a orchestrion in G'raha’s frazzled mind. He should run away, but the identity of the wolf keeps G'raha's feet rooted to the ground. The stranger is G'raha's dearest everlasting inspiration, the famed Warrior of Light and Darkness. The grand saviour of two shards. 

G'raha is stunned in amazement at seeing the renowned Warrior of Darkness dressed up like a slightly tacky wolf. Something that suspiciously looks like Saints Wake and a Lupin mixed together. Finished off by fake looking wolf ears plonked on top of the Warrior of Lights slightly swaying head. G'raha would never say the Warrior could not look majestic, but inside amusement bubbles within him. Clearly in response of seeing such a ridiculously and outlandishly themed getup on his inspiration. Granted the playful smirk the Warrior was directing at him, was making G'raha's cheeks dust with a rosy sheen.

The Warrior in all their wolfish glory, joyously jumps a stunned G'raha out of his many spiralling thoughts. Their tone is slightly lower than what G'aha is used too and it almost sounds sultry. "Well, well, what do we have here, a cute and lost little red riding hood."

G'raha's lowered guard immediately goes back up and he stares at the wolf apparition that is currently masquerading with his inspiration’s very attractive face. G'raha decides on being curt with them. Not taking any chances until he figures out the wolf's motive. "I'm afraid I haven't got time for any friendly chats. Pray tell, what do you require from me?"

The wolf Warrior makes a fake dramatic pose with the back of their glove covered hand, resting it on their forehead. They feign a gasp in mock hurt. "Such a cold response, Red. You wound me." They then take a few steps forward with attitude filled swagger. "I just want to have a friendly talk."

G'raha's expression rapidly sours as he hastily takes a step back, cautiously eyeing the currently grinning wolf. "I'm sure we could have a riveting conversation over tea some other time. Nevertheless, I must be on my way."

The Warrior takes a few fast wide strides before G'raha can even react. Closing the space between the two of them in mere seconds. Their tone is almost flirty as they make a tempting suggestion. "What about having that promised tea, now?" They smile eagerly at a very wary looking G'raha Tia and with a tilt of their head, they give the miqo'te a playful smirk. "I am very hungry and there is a tasty snack in front of me."

G'raha clutches his basket protectively in response to the Warrior's alarming words. He then defiantly glares at the wolf clad Warrior and favours them with a very snippy sounding response. "You will have to find your meal somewhere else, I’m afraid. This basket is for, Grandma."

The Warrior's toothy smile just widens further as they respond cheekily. "I was not talking about the goods in the basket."

G'raha's face goes scarlet as he realises the previously uttered words hidden meaning. The smooth pickup line was delivered with so much skill, that it almost felt like it belonged in one of G'raha's many fever dreams about the Warrior of Light. Regretfully, the only place he could safely and truly express his feelings towards his dearest love, without placing another undue burden upon them.

Meanwhile, the Warrior's previously cocky bravado seems to rapidly melt as they gently reach out and cup G'raha's flustered face, silently asking for permission to kiss him.

G'raha is more than willing as he leans in a little further into his inspirations feather light touch. Even though G'raha's face is still burning he perseveres in hopes of tasting the Warrior's honeyed sweet kiss. He was a parched man after all, thirsty for any affection the Warrior would ever favour him with. Their faces get so close that they are merely centimetres from each other and G'raha's breath quickens as his heart threatens to beat out of his rib cage. He screws his eyes shut in anxious anticipation and his mouth trembles, as wisps of the Warrior's warm breath tickle it.

They are so close, just mere millimetres apart. Almost about to brush their lips together in a joint union of bliss...

Until the little annoying blue bird chirps in alarm again and G'raha snaps out of his love filled trance. He mentally shakes himself out of his enthralled state. Clearly this was a trap. Some scarily accurate, fake pixie made version of his dearest inspiration.

With that unpleasant thought bouncing around in his head, G'raha quickly pushes himself away from a stunned Warrior and ungracefully stumbles backward in the process. He quickly regains his footing and swings his heavy basket right in the surprised wolf's gut.

The previously cocky Warrior of Light doubles over in pain and almost crumbles to the floor clutching at their poor abused stomach. The whole ordeal makes them feel rather winded. They still manage to let out a loud and pitiful sounding whine. "Ouch, what was that for?"

G'raha almost feels bad when he hears his inspiration’s voice sounding so pained, but he is quick to remind himself that this is just another one of the pixies well-crafted illusions. It might be an almost lifelike imitation, but there was no way his Warrior of Light would so brazenly flirt with him. They would never even entertain the thought of kissing him in the first place.

G'raha favours the wolf like Warrior with one more glance full of regret, before bolting it in the direction he was originally heading. His tired feet pound against the stone so fast, that the many trees were becoming blurs in his vision. However, as he bounds through the foliage and brambles, the ghost of the Warrior’s touch still tingles upon his cheek. 

\------

The poor pitiful Warrior of Darkness wasn't having the best of days. After finding themselves in an odd looking forest and being awoken by a very exuberant brown bird. They had found themselves garbed in what they had worn on a past Saint Wake celebration, a handful of years ago. They had little time to adjust to their new wacky getup before being pounced upon by a similarly wolf clothed Alisaie and Alphinaud. Who then had proceeded to ridiculously ridicule them for being a deadbeat lazy older sibling.

They both went on a passionate tangent about wanting some certain food treats in particular. That their dearest older wolf sibling should procure, if they would ever earn their younger twin sibling’s favour and forgiveness ever again. The baked goods in question were something that a certain person named Red Riding Hood regularly delivered to their Grandmother. The somewhat baffled Warrior of Light was an expert at odd situations and questionable shenanigans. So after some fruitless attempts to figure out where they were currently, or what in the blazes of Ifrit's undergarments was going on they just shrugged and accepted it at face value. Heck, if this was anything like their many fanatical adventures with Hildebrand, it was safer to play along.

Figuring it was still some whack ass dream of prophecy or something, they began their painstakingly long search for a red hooded maiden. Only to accidentally stumble upon a certain red haired miqo'te, that they not so secretly held a long burning candle for. After definitely not squealing in a bush about how cute their long time crush was, they figured it was probably a good idea to approach G'raha. 

Unfortunately, their bold assumption that this dream G'raha Tia being like all their other dream G'raha Tia's was wrong. There was no looking heroically cool in front of the person they love, no fantasy like magical kiss in a forest. Instead there was a painful sucker punch of a woven basket to the stomach.

The felled Warrior of Light managed to eventually gather their wounded pride at being so drastically rejected. They could only wallow in their clearly necessary self-pity for so long. The little brown bird, quiet as ever doesn't tweet, instead it settles itself on the Warrior's slouched shoulder. In response, the Warrior pets the little fluff ball and they let out a long suffering sigh. They grumble to themselves and to the ever quiet bird. "I guess I better head in the direction of this infamous Grandma's house, hopefully before that devious basket wielding red fuzz-ball gets there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, both of our wholesome beans have finally met one another. What could be in store for them next?
> 
> Thanks for the very positive reception for this story's first chapter, it's been a blast to write so far. 
> 
> I hope you all stay safe and have a wonderful rest of your day! <3


End file.
